


angel cake (im gonna puke it anyway)

by hemothorax



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Hospitals, Idol AU, M/M, Twitter AU, read the twitter au first!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-30 02:25:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13940622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hemothorax/pseuds/hemothorax
Summary: hospital visits.[ written portion for a twitter au ]@hanhaoshua verhao twt au !





	angel cake (im gonna puke it anyway)

**Author's Note:**

> if you didn't read the description, this is part of a twitter fic i'm making/made (depending when you read this). i'd appreciate the support, find my fic here!
> 
> fic: https://twitter.com/hanhaoshua/status/969815795965374464  
> my twitter: @hanhaoshua

 

Hansol's hands were tapping on his jean covered legs, drumming an erratic rhythm to distract himself from the hospital surroundings. Headphones sat in his ears, but no noise came from the little speakers, listening for a call of his name- or Minghao's. He's pretty sure he parked kinda crooked while driving here, but that doesn't matter right now. He wanted to see Minghao to make sure he was okay.

"Hansol?"

An unfamiliar voice with a faint accent said his name, and his head nearly flew off his neck from how fast he turned towards that direction. Instead of seeing someone in a lab coat, he saw a tall man with brunette hair and face of a model. He man looked somewhat familiar, but he couldn't pin point from where. Hesitantly, Hansol nodded his head and watched the stranger walk forward.

"I'm Jun, the one that texted you."

There was a sigh of relief that the younger didn't know he was holding, his shoulders drooping slightly as the other sat next to him.

"..Is he okay?"

Hansol's voice sounded a bit rough, he hadn't said much that day and hadn't even recorded a video to put out. He was too distracted by the events going on around him to even eat properly- his stomach reminded him after he spoke.

Jun nodded, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs, "The doctors said they'll be moving him to a proper room within the hour, the IV drip is helping restore nutrients to his body, so he needs to stay overnight to get better. Visitors will be allowed in once Minghao thinks he can handle it. I only got to see him for a little."

Hansol nodded, grinding his molars together and clasping his hands together, his leg bouncing up and down to keep something moving. Neither of them said much else, a silent understanding that this was hard to talk about. His hand twitched every few minutes, wanting to check his phone, but then remembering that he wouldn't have anything to look at except articles about Minghao and texts from his friends that seemed concerned. He figured he should probably respond to Chan and Joshua and Wonwoo, but not right now. He wanted to sit with his thoughts for a little.

Minutes ticked by quickly yet slowly, like the grains of sand falling in a hourglass. Still, no music played in the earphones, only noise being the ever-moving hospital around him. The smell of the hospital was dull and clean, the seats smelling a bit like a care home for the elderly. His mind could almost fall asleep and put his body on auto pilot, leaving his mind racing in isolation while his body did whatever. It wasn't until another unfamiliar voice called his name.

"Wen Junhui and Hansol Chwe for Xu Minghao?"

The pair raised their heads, a nurse in soft lilac scrubs locking eyes with them.

"The patient has requested visitors- but one at a time. Please decide who will visit first then make your way to room 517 on the second floor."

The nurse walked away, going back to the nurses station and the two looked at each other.

"You visit him. I already saw him," Jun mumbled, offering a tight smile to the younger.

Hansol stood up on shaky legs, nodding and mumbling out a thanks before heading towards the elevators. He pressed the button with his thumb, watching it light up with an arrow pointing up. The elevator seemed to take forever, both on getting to him and bringing him up to the second floor. Maybe because he wanted it to. He wasn't sure what he was going to say, any words or pre-established lines he was going to say vanished the moment the elevator doors opened to reveal the next floor. Black plaques on the blue-gray walls pointed him towards the direction of Minghao's room. He felt like he wasn't really walking, like he was in some twisted third-person dream and he floated behind his being. It wasn't until he stood in front of the door with the number '517' on a plaque next to it.

He hesitated in front of the door, his hand hovering over the handle but not quite touching the cold metal. He could only see the foot of the bed from the window, the two bumps that are Minghao's feet under hospital blankets. Nobody else seemed to be in there, yet he felt a resistance.

He had to go in there. He couldn't stand outside all day. He did it out of impulse, not thinking until the action was done. The door swinging open, and walking through the doorway.

The sight wasn't as horrible as Hansol had made it out to be in his mind. There were no horrible tubes down his throat, no sensors and tons of robots on his arms. Just his IV drip, a few wires to track his heart and breathing and oxygen levels. His frame was smaller than the last time Hansol had seen him in person, his arms a little more bony and he could tell- even with the hospital gown -that he lost fat on his torso and shoulders. His face was a little more sunken in, bags under his eyes, but they were worse than when he last visited him.

"Hansol, you came."

Minghao's voice seemed to be alright, a bit wheezy and quiet, but overall sounding like himself. The door behind Hansol closed shut on its own, and he gravitated towards Minghao without a word. The two looked at each other for a brief moment before the younger of the two finally spoke.

"I did."

They fell into a silence again, Hansol looking at the IV drip, the heart monitor, the numbers and medical talk he didn't understand. Then he felt a coldness in his hand. Minghao's hands had always been big, he had long fingers, and they had a tendency to be cold. Hansol took his hand and intertwined his fingers with his own warm ones. He might have been a bit sweaty, but neither of them minded.

"Are you okay now?"

Minghao nodded lightly as Hansol pulled a chair up beside the bed, "I will be. I'll be resting more, the company got massive backlash from what happened. I think I already told you, but they lightened the diet and I don't need to dance to each song that has a choreography. Fan signs will be easy. You won't need to worry."

"Are you ever going to leave them? This.. this era has proved that they don't care about your health unless they get backlash, Hao."

Minghao's face darkened, and he looked away.

"I'm not sure. I have enough to sue them if I wanted to... but what if no other company wants me? I'd lose my dream, my passion, the one thing I've worked so hard for.."

"But Hao," Hansol struggled to find the right words, pausing for a moment, "If you don't do anything, then you'll be stuck, and with the fact you are an extremely successful solo artist, there has to be some companies you turned down while going to TXM."

Minghao nodded, then chewed on his lip, "I'll figure out what to do after this era, okay? For now, I just need to recover and finish up promotions."

Hansol sighed out of relief, thankful that they would get somewhere. Hansol took his other hand and clasped it around Minghao's, ducking his head and bringing it up to his face.

"Thank you, Hao. I care about you so much... I just want you to be safe and healthy."

Minghao reached over and pushed some hair out of Hansol's face, resting his hand on the younger's cheek, "I know you do, and I'm thankful every day for it."

 


End file.
